Gone
by roblaine
Summary: After a car accident, Blaine goes missing. Kurt is left with people telling him that his husband is dead left and right, and is told to go to therapy to 'deal with his loss'. But Kurt doesn't think he's lost anything at all.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt steppeds out of the elevator, determinedly marching over to the receptionist and standing in front of her with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed until she looked up.

"May I help you?" she asked, kindly.

"I have an appointment for four o' clock." Kurt told her, feeling a little guilty for how rude he probably seemed. The receptionist typed something into her computer, and looked back up at him.

"Kurt Anderson-Hummel?" she asked. Kurt felt a little twinge of sadness, but quickly brushed that feeling aside.

"Yes."

"You can wait over there," The receptionist saidys, gesturing over to an area behind him with about six or seven chairs. "Dr. Williams is seeing another client at the moment, but she should be done soon." She then gave him a sympathetic smile and turned back to her computer.

Kurt was getting really sick of those smiles.

He inhaled sharply, turned around and walked over to the chairs behind him. He noticed a girl sitting in the corner behind the elevators, her blonde-streaked brown hair hiding her face as she bent over the book in her lap, reading intently. Kurt watched her for a little bit, thinking about how the position she was sitting in couldn't possibly be comfortable.

She shifted, curling her legs up in front of her and looking up at Kurt.

"I can feel you staring at me," she said softly, looking at Kurt from behind her glasses like she couldn't decide whether or not to glare at him.

"Sorry," Kurt apologized.

"No, you don't have to be," she sighed, "I'm pretty used to the staring."

"Why?" Kurt found himself asking. Her head tilted, looking at him confusedly.

"I'm sorry?" she said, like it was a question.

"Why do people stare at you?" Kurt asked. The girl looked a little shocked. She parted her lips, like she was about to answer, but then the door next to the receptionist's desk opened, and a little boy walked out with a young woman. At the same time, the elevator doors opened, and an older woman came out, smiling at the little boy.

"Well, see you next week, okay, kiddo?" the younger woman said, kindly. The little boy nodded.

"Bye, Miss Sarah!" he said, enthusiastically, before grabbinged the older woman's hand and walking with her back into the elevator. The young woman smiled and looked over to the seating area.

She frowned, looking at the girl, who was looking back sheepishly.

"Alyssa, why haven't you left yet?" she asked the girl.

"…Because my dad is late?" Alyssa replied, embarrassed.

"Do I need to call him?" the woman asked.

"No, it's fine. He'll be here," Alyssa said, not as confidently as she tried to sound. The woman exhaled loudly and looked over at Kurt.

"Are you Kurt Anderson-Hummel?" she asked. Kurt nodded his conformation.

"Come in, then!" the woman said cheerfully, gesturing inside the room.

It was a small office, with a slightly cluttered desk in the corner, and two couches in the center of the room, facing each other. A couple of bookshelves were against the wall, books of all sizes filling them. There was only one thing on the walls, a picture of what seemed to be a blue door, with the words, 'POLICE BOX' written above it, and a light on top of the whole thing.

"Have a seat," the woman said, closing the door as she re-entered the room., "I'm Sarah Williams, if you haven't guessed yet."

She was kind of pretty, Kurt thought, watching her moving the papers around on her desk. Like the girl in the waiting room, she had brown hair, but it wasn't streaked like the girl's, and it was tied back in a loose bun. She glanced back up at Kurt, her brown eyes glinting as she smiled.

"So, Kurt, what brings you here today?" she asked, coming over to sit on the couch across from him.

"You know already, don't you?" Kurt said, dryly. He didn't want to talk about it anymore.

"Yes, but I want to hear it from your point of view. Also, even though it hurts, it helps to talk about these kinds of things." Dr. Williams told him kindly, another of one of those _stupid_ sympathetic smiles on her face. Kurt's eyes narrowed, already defensive.

"Well, I don't know exactly what type of information you have, or who you got it from, but I know that there's one thing you need to know," Kurt said, angrily, "_My husband is not dead._ I know that it's been two months, and he hasn't shown up or even _called_, and I also know that the police have given up, but I haven't!. Blaine is out there, somewhere, and I just hope he comes home soon so everyone can stop giving me those _stupid_ sympathetic smiles and treating me like I'm something that could break any minute!"

The last part ended up turning into a yell. Dr. Williams just stared at him, a neutral look on her face.

"Okay, how about this?" she finally said, patiently, "I don't treat you or think of you as a young widow who just lost the love of his life, and you don't treat me like I'm some kind of monster only here to make you believe that your husband is dead. When you come in here for our weekly appointments, you can just tell me about him, like we're me and you are friends. But, there's one condition. Every week, I'll give you a prompt, and you will have to tell me about it. Does that sound good to you?"

Kurt honestly didn't know what to think about this at first. Here was a complete stranger, offering to let him go on and gush about Blaine all he wanteds, without her interrupting and correcting him every time he said "'is"' instead of "was" and treating him like he was made of glass. Not even his friends could promise that. It seemed like a good deal to him, and he had to keep coming to these stupid appointments anyway if he wanted to not stay at home all day (Isabelle had set up the appointments, claiming to be worried about him, and telling him that if she gets even one any calls that he missed an appointment, she would suspend him from work.). Why not make it as enjoyable as he could?

"Okay," Kurt finally said, quietly. Dr. Williams smiled.

"Good. Now, for today, and just so we can get this over with, how about we make the prompt be the accident. What was that day like for you, beginning to end?" she said. If her asking that hadn't pulled up every single awful memory and emotion about and from that day, Kurt would've been mildly impressed. This lady didn't mess around.

"I -" Kurt started, his voice thick with emotion. He sniffled and continued. "S-sorry, ma'am. It's just - that was an awful day."

"I completely understand. And please, call me Sarah." She said, offering Kurt a box of tissues. He thanked her and wiped his eyes.

"Well , first of all, it didn't start out that awful," Kurt started to say, his voice still shaking a little, looking at the floor to the right of Sarah's chair.

* * *

Kurt woke up to the sound of Blaine's voice, talking exasperatedly to someone on the phone.

"Are you sure it's not just - ? Okay, okay, no need to shout. It's just…do you _really _need me to- Fine! I'll be there in a couple hours. Just don't keep calling me every three minutes, okay?"

Blaine then hung up his phone and put it on the nightstand, wrapping his arms even tighter around Kurt and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Who was that?" Kurt asked groggily, staring at Blaine with half-open eyes. Blaine winced.

"Cooper. He broke down a couple hours outside of town, and he apparently needs me to go pick him up. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"No, it's okay." Kurt yawned, "And I'm not mad that you have to skip out on our weekly stay-in-bed-all-day-and-watch-bad-reality-TV Sunday. Now go get dressed, and I'll start the coffee maker and make you something to eat on the way."

"You are a saint." Blaine said, adoringly, as Kurt sat up and walked out of their room.

"I love you, too." Kurt replied, smiling.

Blaine hurriedly threw on a (hopefully) clean shirt and jeans, hopping out into the tiny kitchen while pulling on his socks, Kurt laughing a little at his husband as he handed him a mug of coffee.

"There's a couple PopTtarts in the toaster. I'll go get your shoes, phone, and keys. You just sit down and eat, okay?" Kurt told Blaine, the latter jumping up to sit on the counter, sipping at his mug.

"Okay, now I'm getting suspicious. Are you _trying_ to get rid of me?" Blaine teased.

"No, I just don't want to deal with your brother whining every six minutes about how you left him out in the wild for hours." Kurt yelled from their room.

"Whatever you say," Blaine said in a sing-song voice as Kurt walked back into the room, earning him a playful smack to the head.

Three minutes later, the two were sharing a sweet kiss at the door.

"Don't miss me too much, now, you hear?" Blaine said.

"Trust me, I'll be fine for a couple hours." Kurt replied, rolling his eyes.

"I love you."

"Love you too. Now go be a good brother."

Blaine smiled and started to jog down the stairs.

That was the last time Kurt had seen Blaine.

* * *

Three hours later, Cooper called.

"Where's Blaine? He hasn't picked me up yet, and I'm _dying_, Kurt. _Dying._"

"What do you mean, he hasn't gotten there yet? He left three hours ago, he should've been there by now," Kurt told Cooper, drying a bowl. Cooper let out a small, 'oh' and a string of cuss words.

"Coop? What's going on?" Kurt asked, worried.

"Nothing. Just- I'll call you back, okay?" Cooper said quickly. The line went dead. Panicking, Kurt picked up his phone again and dialed Blaine's number.

An unfamiliar voice answered.

"Hello? Who is this?" the voiceit asked, gruffly.

"T - this is Kurt Anderson-Hummel. Wh - who are you, and why do you have my husband's phone?" Kurt asked, feeling like he might pass out or vomit. Or both.

"Oh," The gruff voice said, "Um, sir? Does your husband drive a car with the plate number 943-SXQ?"

"Yes, he does." Kurt replied, hoarsely, afraid of what was the person on the other end would say next.

"We just found his car in a bad wreck on the side of the highway. Unfortunately, he is not anywhere in the vicinity, but we will keep looking. Can I get you to -"

Kurt only half-caught the rest, the gruff voice telling him to come down to the police station as soon as he could as Kurt quietly sobbed.

After he hung up, Kurt practically slammed his phone down on the counter before running into his and Blaine's room, slipping on a pair of shoes, and then racing back out, grabbing his own keys, tears still running down his face.

After looking for hours upon end for Blaine in the woods near the car, despite the police and Cooper trying to stop him, Kurt went back home and ended up falling into a dreamless sleep as the sun began to shine through the tightly drawn blinds.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Sarah told him, quietly, as he finished telling her the story. "That must have been awful, to be so happy one minute, and have the best thing in your life pretty much ripped away from you the next."

"It was," Kurt sniffled, dabbing at his eyes again, "The worst part is that people seem to have just…given up. And since I refuse to give up, my friends have…well, they haven't been exactly avoiding me, but most of them have barely even called."

"Well, that could be that they just don't know how to deal with what they believe is your in denial of losing Blaine. They also could just be giving you a little space because they don't know how to handle their own grief." Sarah told him.

"Yeah, but I don't want them to "give me space.". I just want to have someone to talk to," Kurt replied.

"Well, now you have me to talk to." Sarah said, smiling, "And on that note, our time for this week is up. See you at the same time next week?"

* * *

Kurt took the subway home, looking at his phone out of habit every three seconds, expecting a text or a call from Blaine. Two months later, and he was still waiting.

At home, he ate and took a shower, changing into an old pair of Blaine's sweats and curling up under a blanket on the couch to watch mind-numbing reality TV to lull him to sleep. Right before he closed his eyes, he glanced over to the kitchen counter, where Blaine's mug still sat, coffee-stained and untouched since it's owner had left it there two months earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later, Kurt was on the train heading back home when his phone suddenly went off. His mind started racing, and he was grinning from ear to ear as he tapped the 'Accept Call' button and brought the phone up to his ear before looking at the display telling him who was calling.

"Hello?" Kurt asked, a little breathlessly.

"Hey, Kurt," Rachel said, obviously forcing the cheeriness in her voice. Kurt felt his high hopes plummet.

"Oh, hey, Rachel. It's been a while," Kurt said, almost monotonously, standing up as the train reached his stop.

"Yeah, it has. We haven't seen each other since," Rachel started to say, but then abruptly changed the subject., "Um…So, do you want to grab lunch with me on Monday? I found this cute little café near the theater I'm working with, and I just know you're going to _love_ it. Please say yes, please please _please, _Kurt?"

"Okay, fine. Just come pick me up at VogueVouge on Monday, and then you can drag me to your new favorite place to eat that I'm probably going to end up going with you every week for the next month," Kurt concededs, laughing a little at Rachel's pleading as he exiteds the train and mademakes his way outside.

"Yay! See you then!" Rachel cheered.

"See you," Kurt said, hanging up and jogging up the stairs and sighing. Somehow, between the time Kurt had boarded the train downtown and gotten off, the weather had clouded over, and it had started pouring.

_Just fantastic,_ Kurt thought, pulling up his jacket so that it covered his head and sprinting as fast as he could towards the apartment.

* * *

Funnily enough, the café Rachel had fallen in love with was nowhere to be found on Monday.

"I don't understand! I'm so sure it was right here!" Rachel cried, pacing. Kurt might have laughed if he wasn't so hungry and miserable from walking so much.

"Look, Rach, can we just go grab some pretzels and eat already? I only have twenty minutes to left until I have to head back, anyway," Kurt said. She agreed, and they wound up sitting on a bench in Battery Park, nibbling on some _truly_ awful pretzels.

"Hey, remember how we both broke up with our boyfriends here a few years ago?" Kurt asked, snorting a little at the memory. Rachel winced.

"Please don't bring that up," she pleaded.

"Why not? It's not like anyone died that day or anything," Kurt said, causing her to wince again.

"It's just a really painful memory, that's all," Rachel explained, pausing before she continued. "You know, I'm surprised you're taking this so well."

"Taking what well?" Kurt asked, giving up and just throwing the stale pretzel away in the trash can next to the bench.

"You know," Rachel said, evasively. When Kurt just looked at her, confused, she continued, "The…the whole Blaine thing."

"Rachel, it wasn't him." Kurt told her.

"But, Kurt…" she said.

"But nothing. It wasn't Blaine, and I know he's not dead. So just drop it, okay?" Kurt argued, a little harshly. Rachel bit her lower lip, looking concerned.

"Kurt, it's been two months. If he isn't dead, then why hasn't he come home?" she asked him. Kurt gave her a look that was somewhere in between a glare and him about to burst into tears. He stood up, shouldering his bag.

"I have to go back to work now. I'll see you…Well, I'll see you eventually," he said, then walked away as fast as his legs could carry him without running.

* * *

Later that day, he walked out of the elevator, noddingded at the receptionist as he approached, and sat down in the waiting area. The girl from last week was there again, a different book propped up on her knees. But this time, the blonde streaks had been dyed over, making most of her hair a bright magenta-pink.

"Hi," she said, looking up at Kurt over her book cover. "I didn't introduce myself last week, did I? Sorry. That was kind of rude of me. I'm Alyssa."

"Hi, Alyssa, I'm Kurt. It's nice to meet you," Kurt replied, curiously.

"So, you've probably realized why people stare at me," she sighed, pointing at her hair and book., "I dye my hair odd colors, and read all the time, which is so far from normal teen behavior, it's almost funny."

"Well, I happen to like people who are abnormal. Why change or hide who you are?" Kurt shrugged. Alyssa smiled at him.

"Exactly. But the so-called normal people just hate people who stick out, and I hate that. I don't want to be the same as everyone else," she said, closing her book and placing it on the chair next to her.

"It's nice to know that there are still some people out there who are okay with being different," Kurt told her.

"Well, it's nice for me to meet someone that doesn't know me and actually says 'hi' instead of turning away when I catch them staring at me," she replied. The elevator opened, and the older mother exited, tapping her foot impatiently for the minute it took for Sarah to exit her office with the woman's son and say goodbye to him.

Sarah sighed, obviously annoyed, looking over to the waiting area and seeing Alyssa sitting there.

"Kurt, come on in," she said, leading the way into the office. Kurt sat down on the couch across from where Sarah was currently sitting.

"So, Kurt, how was your week?" she asked.

"Okay, I guess. I had a truly awful lunch today, though," he replied. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Well, my friend Rachel wanted to drag me to this café she apparently found, so we spent half an hour looking for it, and ended up at a park eating the worst pretzels I've ever had the displeasure of tasting," Kurt sighed.

"Let me guess, the vendor at Battery Park?" she hazarded.

"The exact one. Funny thing about that park, Blaine and I broke up there," he told her.

"Wait…isn't he your husband now?" Sarah asked, intrigued.

"Well, of course we worked things out. I think the whole thing is pretty funny, looking back on it," Kurt said.

"I bet it is," Sarah smiled. "Now, I hate to ruin the mood, but today, why don't we talk about the search for Blaine. Did you volunteer to search at all? Did anyone find anything?"

Kurt immediately felt as if he was going to throw up. Biting his lip, he looked at the wall behind Sarah, not saying a word.

"Kurt?" she asked.

"So, what happened to your hand?" Kurt asked Sarah, eyeing her splint and trying to repress his urge to just get up and run out of there.

"I pulled a muscle in my hand opening a door. I don't want to force you to talk about anything that you're not ready to talk about, but just know that it really does help to talk about these kind of things," Sarah said. Kurt took a few deep breaths.

"I know. I know. I just…it's really stupid, because I know Blaine isn't dead, but…they did find something while they were searching," Kurt admitted in a small voice.

"Really? What did they find?" she asked. Kurt swallowed, and took a few more deep breaths before answering.

"A body," he told Sarah, so quietly that she almost didn't hear even heard him.

* * *

Every single member of New Directions came up to New York to help with the search over the next month. Countless hours were spent roaming through the forest and the surrounding area, looking for any trace of Blaine.

Nobody found anything for the whole four weeks.

Kurt spent the whole time searching through the dark, disgusting forest with everyone else, and falling asleep on the couch when he was too exhausted to keep his eyes open for any longer.

Then, exactly twenty-nine days, thirteen hours, and five minutes after Kurt found out about the crash, he got another call.

"Hello?" Kurt answered, copying some papers for Isabelle as a favor.

"Hey, dude," Finn answered. "Um, listen, I just wanted to call and tell you this before the cops do, so you don't freak out on them or something, but we found something today."

Kurt nearly dropped his phone along with all the papers he had just copied.

"You did? What? What did you find?" he asked, excitedly, feeling the happiest he had felt for a month.

"Um, well, me, Puck and Sam were walking around, looking, and we found this cave-thing behind a tree that we hadn't noticed before, so we went in to look, and we found…um…we found a body, Kurt," Finn explained. Kurt froze.

"Is…is it?" he asked, his own voice sounding strange to his own ears.

"We don't…we don't know," Finn said. "It's…it's too messed up to tell any facial features, but what little hair it does have is the same color as Blaine's, and it looks to be about the same height, so the police say it is most likely is Blaine."

"Okay, thank you for calling," Kurt said, faintly, hanging up before Finn could say anything else. He then staggered over to his desk, waiting for the official call.

It's while he's waiting that it finally occurred to when Kurt realized that Finn said that they were unable to tell who it really was.

* * *

Of course, they make him hunt down and give them all of Blaine's medical and dental records and even a toothbrush so they'll have his DNA to match, planning to that they can check even the most stupid little things to see if the body actually is Blaine. They ask Kurt if he would like to see the body, see if he can point out any little thing that might confirm that is, in fact, his husband.

Kurt refused. He knows it's not Blaine, so really, what's the point?

But one little, tiny nagging voice in the back of his mind refuses to say that Blaine's still okay and out there somewhere.

* * *

"It's not Blaine, I just know it's not, but they're taking so long testing every single possible thing to prove it's him, and Puck even told me that it didn't really even look like him when they pulled it out of the cave," Kurt said, clinging to that small ray of hope.

"Do you know when they're supposed to finish up the testing on the body?" Sarah asked, looking upset.

"Sometime this week, they're supposed to tell me what they've found out," Kurt told her.

"Well, you'll let me know what they tell you next week, okay?" she asked.

"I will,." Kurt reassures her.

What he didn't mention was that his heart felt a little more broken with each and every day that passed without Blaine there.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt had just barely settled into his desk when Isabelle poked her head out of her office, and motioned for him to come in.

"So, how are you?" she asked as soon as they were both sitting side-by-side on the couch in her office.

"I'm okay," Kurt replied, studying Isabelle's face, wondering why she wanted him to come in her office if she just wanted to ask him if he was okay. He noticed that her usual cheerful smile seemed a little forced.

"Well, that's good. Any…any news?" she asked. Kurt knew she was referring to Blaine, who she had met when he first moved to the city and Blaine came by the Vogue office to kidnap Kurt for lunch. Kurt forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself before replying.

"Not really. Nothing yet," Kurt told her. She nodded sadly.

"It's such a shame," she said, quietly, shaking her head a little before continuing. "Anyway, Kurt, I was thinking you deserve some time off."

"What?" Kurt asked, a little shocked.

"Not because I think your work is slacking or terrible, or because I just want to get rid of you!" she said, quickly. "It's just that over the past two months, considering what else has been going on, you still continue to be one of my best employees. If I were you, I know that I wouldn't even be able to get out of bed every day, let alone come here and continue to do my best work like you have. So, why don't you take a break for the next week or so, and just come back into the office whenever you feel like it, okay?"

"Alright," Kurt said, already dreading the week ahead. Isabelle leaned over and hugged him.

"You'll get through this, okay? After all, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," shereminded him, singing the last part. Kurt laughed.

Over the next day and a half, Kurt did every possible chore around the house he could do. He washed the dishes (all except for Blaine's coffee mug), did all the laundry in the apartment, cleaned the bathroom and the kitchen, moved the couch and vacuumed under it, and dusted every inch of the apartment that he could reach.

He had almost run out of things to do when he got a call telling him to come down to the police station as soon as he could.

Kurt was there in less than fifteen minutes.

As soon as Kurt arrived, he was led into an interrogation room in the back, and was quickly joined by a man who introduced himself as Detective Hamilton.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hummel," he said.

"Anderson-Hummel," Kurt corrected automatically. The detective rolled his eyes.

"Well, we have just received the results of the extensive testing we did on the John Doe that was found a little over a month ago, and I am pleased to inform you that it is not your husband." Detective Hamilton said, almost monotonously. He then said a couple other things about the police not resuming the search because of other, more important things going on in the city. Kurt honestly didn't care. He just accepted Blaine's plastic bagged toothbrush and began his walk back home, smiling.

The body wasn't Blaine. Kurt had known it all along, but the official confirmation still gave him a little thrill. Blaine definitely wasn't-

"_If he isn't dead, then why hasn't he come home yet?"_

Kurt briefly closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on other things to get the memory of what Rachel had said out of his mind.

It didn't work. The question haunted him his whole way back to the apartment, driving Kurt to the point that when he got there, he simply threw the toothbrush on the kitchen table, grabbed his car keys, and left again.

* * *

Kurt pulled over on the side of the now uncomfortably familiar stretch of highway, walking back into the darkening forest as the sun was setting on the horizon.

The expanse of trees seemed more menacing as the sky darkened. There was no other sound except for Kurt's occasional cries of Blaine's name and the crunching of twigs underneath his feet. What little sounds from the highway behind him were all but wiped out as he moved deeper into the woods. Kurt might have been way more frightened if he hadn't been so determined to find some clue as to where Blaine was.

When Kurt realized that he could barely see three feet in front of his face, he traipsed back through the forest to his car, hoping that he still had a flashlight somewhere in it.

As soon as he got close to the highway, Kurt noticed something small glinting from the streetlamp's light on the ground. He kneeled down, no longer caring about the state of his clothes as he pried the tiny object from where it had become embedded into the dirt.

It was a ring.

As Kurt soon realized after frantically brushing away the dirt on it, it was Blaine's wedding ring.

And it had blood coating it.

* * *

Kurt went straight to a bar nearbyhis apartment, needing something to completely wipe out the shock and heartache of finding the ring from his mind.

He was on his third drink when somebody sat down next to him.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Lady Hummel. Tell me, what is Lima's prettiest gay doing here all alone?" Sebastian Smythe cooed, his voice as condescending as always.

"Go away," Kurt moaned.

"Aww, whas da matter? Is wittle Kurtie upset?" Sebastian teased. Kurt glared at him.

"Okay, first off, I still haven't forgiven you for nearly blinding Blaine back in high school," Kurt snapped, feeling a little better when Sebastian's face dropped, "Second, I've been through _hell_ the past few months, and it just keeps getting _worse _and_ worse_, and you sitting down and _mocking_ me doesn't exactly make me feel better."

Neither of them said anything for a long moment.

"Okay then," Sebastian said, standing up and offering Kurt his hand. "C'mon."

Kurt nearly choked on his drink. "Excuse me?"

"I said 'come on'. Look, Hummel, I know I haven't exactly been the nicest to you," Kurt rolled his eyes at this statement and Sebastian continued, "But I would be lying if I said I didn't find you hot. Even with all your stupid outfits. So, we're going to go back to my place, and have a little fun so you forget all about what's upsetting you. Deal?"

Kurt stared at Sebastian's outstretched hand, glancing up every few seconds at his face as if he was trying to figure out if he was kidding or not.

Finally, he set down his drink, and slapped Sebastian across the face.

Sebastian immediately clutched at where he had been hit, stumbling sideways a little at the force of it.

"What the-" he started to say. Kurt calmly stood up and walked out of the dingy bar, not stopping until he was at home.

After Kurt had taken a short shower and slipped on a t-shirt and some sweats, he stood over his bed for a while. It was still unmade from that morning so long ago, the blankets rumpled and thrown haphazardly across it. It struck Kurt at that moment how much he really _missed_ Blaine, missed every single little thing about him, even the thingsthat usually annoyed Kurt to no end.

Kurt finally gave in and slipped under the covers on Blaine's side of the bed. Everything still had the faint scent of him, and Kurt wrapped the blankets around himself tighter, as if that would magically make Blaine appear.

Kurt ended up crying himself to sleep that night, still cocooned in Blaine's blankets.

* * *

Kurt was woken up the next morning by his phone ringing from the nightstand, the loud, sudden noise making his head pound more than it already was.

"H-hello?" he answered, rubbing his forehead and mentally yelling at himself for drinking so much when he knew that he couldn't handle alcohol that well.

"Hey kiddo," his Dad replied, "I haven't heard from you in a while, so I thought I'd call and check up on you. How've ya been?"

"I'm fine, Dad," Kurt told himsoftly, getting up to get some aspirin from the bathroom cabinet as he spoke.

"See, how come I don't believe that?" his dad said. Kurt was silent for a moment, remembering what he had found the night before.

"Dad? Do you…do you think Blaine's d-dead?" Kurt asked, his voice cracking.

"Listen, sport," his Dad finally replied after a long moment, "I want him not to be dead almost as much as you do. But after two and a half months of nothing, I don't see any way that he isn't. But I really hate that you have to go through the same kinda pain that I did when I lost your mother."

"I just…I just keep waiting for him to knock on the door and run his hand through his hair as he apologizes about a million times for taking so long to get home, and he never does. It hurts so much, D ad, and that body not being him isn't helping." Kurt said, sniffling a little bit.

"It wasn't? When did you- oh, never mind right now. How 'bout…how 'bout you come down and stay with me and Carole for a little bit? Or we can come up there. Just so you don't have to be all alone in that big old apartment of yours. How's that sound?"

"That actually sounds good right about now. Me going down to Lima, I mean." Kurt replied, smiling a little.

"Great. So, when do you think you'll be down here? Just so Carole has enough time to prepare." his dad asked.

"Tuesday. I have somewhere to go on Monday, and then I'll head straight down there. And tell Carole she doesn't have to do anything special just because I'm coming down there, " Kurt told him.

"Alright, but you and I both know that me telling her that isn't gonna stop her, " his dad admonished.

"It doesn't hurt to try," Kurt insisted.

"Alright, well, see you then, kiddo. I love you."

"Love you too, dad."


	4. Chapter 4

When Kurt arrived at Sarah's office, he found Alyssa sitting sideways on the set of chairs, her legs spread out in front of her as she read.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, not even looking up from her book.

"Hi," Kurt replied. The two sat in silence for a short while.

"I don't want to be rude or anything, but you seem kind of…down today compared to the other times you've been here," Alyssa said, slowly closing her book and looking over to where Kurt was sitting.

"Have you ever…believed something…with everything you have, and then realized it's probably not even true?" Kurt found himself asking her, his voice sounding quiet and a little defeated even to his own ears. He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It's just…really painful."

Alyssa didn't reply for a moment."I don't know what it is you stopped believing in, but I just want to tell you something I've learned," she began, ignoring the soft buzzing noise coming from her bag. "Sometimes you just need to believe in impossible things."

She then reached into her bag and pulled out a cell phone, muttering something about being earlier than usual as she picked up her bag and stood up.

"See you next week," she said, waving as she walked away.

* * *

"So, Kurt, how was your week?" Sarah asked.

"Awful," Kurt replied, honestly. "There were some good parts, but mostly this week was just the worst."

Sarah looked at him, confused.

"How so?" she asked.

"Well first, my boss told me that I should take some time off," Kurt began.

"That doesn't seem so bad. I would kill to get some time off here," Sarah commented, sniffling a little.

"Well, I hate it, because it means I'm stuck in my apartment all day, and it's driving me crazy," Kurt huffed. "But , the good part is that the body they found wasn't Blaine."

Sarah actually threw her hands up in the air and cheered.

"I _knew _it!" she boasted. Then she looked back at Kurt, narrowing her eyes. "Wait…if it's not him, then why do you look so sad?"

"I ended up running into some jerk I knew way back in high school who was always trying to go after Blaine, and-" Kurt continued, quickly.

"Kurt, what aren't you telling me?" Sarah interrupted. Kurt fidgeted a little, refusing to look her in the eyes.

"I went looking in the woods again for Blaine after they told me the body wasn't his," he admitted.

"Did you find anything?" Sarah asked. Kurt closed his eyes and nodded.

"I found his wedding ring. And it had blood on it," Kurt told her, his voice a broken whisper.

"Oh, Kurt." he heard Sarah say. After a few moments, she came and sat down next to him, placing a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"I'm going back down to Lima for a little bit," Kurt told Sarah. "I think…I think I just need a break."

"Okay. Just come back whenever you're ready," Sarah said quietly.

* * *

Kurt didn't turn his phone back on when he landed in Ohio.

In fact, he didn't turn it back on the whole time he's there.

* * *

Lima is just as he remembered it.

Kurt can't decide if that's a good thing or not.

He spent his days helping out at the shop, walking around the town, helping Carole around the house, or visiting the Glee Club even though he doesn't know anybody in it anymore.

It's nice.

Sometimes, however, Kurt would walk by a certain place, like the Lima Bean or the park where Pavarotti was buried, and he'd feel like he was punched in the stomach.

Kurt learnt how to avoid these places.

He spent a little over a week in Lima, until his dad came up to his old room one day after dinner.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, sitting down on the bed.

"Hey, dad. What's going on? Do you need me to go grab something from the attic for you?" Kurt asked, carefully folding up his clothes.

"Nah, nothing like that. I just think that…maybe you need to get back to New York," his Dad replied. "It's kinda like when you stayed here for a little while after you didn't get into NYADA. You're hiding, Kurt, and I know I'm the one who told you that you should come down here, but now I'm realizing all over again how strong you are, and how much bigger you are than this little town. You'll make it through all this, Kurt, but right now, I think it's time you go back to where you belong."

Kurt carefully placed the folded shirt back into his suit case and sat down next to his dad.

"I was starting to think the same thing," Kurt admitted.

* * *

Kurt booked a flight back to New York for early that Monday, and called Sarah's office to let her know he was going to be able to make it to their usual appointment.

When he got back to the city, he only had enough time to quickly throw his suitcase on his bed before running out the door.

But for some reason, Kurt can't help but feel as if something's…different. He can't place what exactly it is, but there's something not right.

Kurt shrugged it off, blaming it on the time he'd just spent in Lima, and rushed out the door.

As he ran down to the subway station, Kurt thought he heard someone call his name three different times. But when he looked around, he didn't see anyone he recognized.

Sarah is waiting for him when he finally got to her office.

"Sorry I'm late." Kurt said. "My flight was a little delayed."

"Oh, it's no problem. I finally was able to get around to some of this paperwork I've needed to finish." Sarah dismissed. "How was your trip?"

"It was okay. I helped my dad around his shop, wandered around Lima. Nothing particularly exciting." Kurt replied. Sarah nodded.

"So, today, why don't we-" she started to say, but was interrupted by the receptionist knocking on the door and poking her head in.

"Dr. Williams, there's a man out here asking if he can talk to Mr. Anderson-Hummel," she said, sounding a little bored. Sarah looked at Kurt, both of them with matching confused looks on their faces. Kurt stood up.

"I better go see who it is," Kurt said, walking out of the office.

The man standing at the receptionist's desk was shifting his weight from one foot to another, his hands in his pockets, looking nervous. When he saw Kurt walk out of Sarah's office, however, his entire face lit up.

Kurt just stared, suddenly unable to move when he saw him.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked, once he regained control of his vocal cords.


	5. Chapter 5

**I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG. So, so sorry. Here have the chapter I love you all so much:**

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, sounding as if he'd been holding his breath.

Kurt's eyes raked down his body, searching for any sign that this wasn't real, that this was just a dream, on the brink of just breaking down and crying right there in the middle of Sarah's waiting room with everyone watching.

Blaine looked just as perfect and real as he always did; the only difference was that he now sported a Band-Aid on the right side of his forehead. The grin that he wore started to falter a little as Kurt gaped at him, and he took a hesitant step forward.

"Kurt?" he said again. And before Kurt had any conscious realization of what he was doing, he was running, throwing himself at Blaine. A sob escaped him as Blaine's arms wrapped around him, holding Kurt close as if he might disappear at any moment.

"I'm home," Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear, and the floodgates opened. Kurt buried his face in Blaine's shoulder, feeling his whole body shaking as he cried for the first time since Blaine had disappeared. Blaine was rubbing his back and whispering "I'm here, it's okay, I'm so sorry, I love you." in Kurt's ear, trying to make him calm down, but unintentionally making Kurt cry even harder, because Blaine was _real_, he was _alive _and holding Kurt and it was all just _too much._

Slowly, but surely, Kurt began to stop sobbing, getting quieter and quieter as the tears stopped running down his cheeks until he was just sniffling into Blaine's damp shoulder.

Kurt slowly raised his head up until he was staring into Blaine's eyes, which were watery and bright.

"Please take me home before I start wailing again." Kurt said, quietly, his face flushing after realizing that Alyssa, Sarah, and the receptionist were all watching them. Blaine nodded, and the two broke apart and started over to the elevator, Kurt looking back and waving at the three women.

After a long, silent subway ride and walk back to their apartment, the two walked inside. Kurt pulled his hand out of Blaine's grasp to shut and lock the door, turning to face Blaine once he was done, suddenly livid.

"Where have you been?" Kurt asked, his voice both angry and wavering like he was on the verge of tears again. "Why didn't you at least _call_ to let me know you were okay, instead of just letting me sit here for _three months _wondering where the _hell_ my husband was? Everyone was telling me you were _dead, _Blaine! And I…I…" Kurt's breathing started to hitch, and then he was crying again.

Blaine's face softened, and he moved forward to hold Kurt again, both of them sliding down to the ground.

When Kurt's sobs quieted, Blaine started talking.

"There was a deer in the middle of the road."

Blaine woke up slowly, his head aching and something itching on the right side of his face. Groaning, he raised his hand and rubbed at his forehead, wincing and quickly pulling it away when it stung. His gaze was drawn to his hand, and he inhaled sharply.

His palm was covered in blood.

Blaine dropped his hand and looked around the car, noticing the broken glass from the windshield and the pole his car had crashed into for the first time.

He grasped for the door handle, throwing it open and stumbling out, feeling dizzy as soon as he was standing.

Blaine started off into the wooded area, figuring that it was the quickest way to any sort of civilization. Then, he could call Kurt, or for some help, and _wow_, was the cut or whatever it was on his forehead really bleeding that bad? Oh, god, he really wished Kurt was there. Not hurt like he was, of course, Blaine would never wish that on Kurt, but just there. He'd be so much better in this kind of situation. Neither of them was very good with- wait, wait, you need to _focus, _Blaine. Focus on getting help, not on Kurt. Even though thinking about Kurt was an excellent distraction from the current situation.

Blaine continued to stagger through the woods, determined. He'd make it out of here soon enough, and then he'd be curled up with Kurt on the couch, his husband doting on him because he felt bad for making Blaine go out in the first place.

"I found a town right before the sun set," Blaine explained, still holding Kurt. "It was really tiny, and they didn't even have a hospital, just a local doctor who they rushed me to. And they wouldn't even let me call anyone because they thought I was delirious. I probably was, I can't even remember a lot of it, but I'm pretty sure I kept passing out and throwing up for a while, and they realized I didn't have my ID-"

"Blaine," Kurt interrupted. "You're rambling."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Anyway, I was there for a couple weeks. Once I was functioning like a normal human being and they realized I wasn't crazy, they let me go. And I tried to call you, I really did, but I couldn't remember your number or the one for your work, because I'm an idiot. Then, this really nice woman offers to give me a ride to the next town over, and I took it. I wound up somewhere in Pennsylvania with nothing but twenty dollars that the woman who gave me a ride handed me before I got out. So, I just began walking along the highway in the direction the signs said New York was. I got here last week, and then flew into a panic because you weren't. Here, that is. And then, I saw a piece of paper in our room with some flight information to Lima, and I assumed you went there for a little bit and decided to just wait for you to come home."

Kurt stared at Blaine, mouth gaping just a little.

"Blaine," Kurt said, quietly. "Do any of our friends know you're back?"

"…No, none of our friends know. Why?" Blaine asked, his brow furrowed.

"Because," Kurt replied, moving forward until their lips were only a breath apart, "I want you all to myself for a little while."

He then lunged himself at Blaine, their lips meeting as they fell backwards.

Three days later, Kurt was perched on the kitchen counter, grinning as he watched Blaine make breakfast.

"You know, you really look good in my clothes," Kurt remarked. Blaine turned around and grinned back at him.

"Is that so?" he asked, teasingly.

"Mmhm," Kurt hummed, hopping off the counter and snorting when he notices the small patch of pancake flour smeared on his cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his hand lingering on Blaine's cheek. Blaine inhaled sharply, and his face fell.

"Kurt…" he started, biting his lip slightly. "I…I lost my wedding ring."

"What?" Kurt asked, confused, and then remembering what he had hidden in his nightstand along with Blaine's old pocket watch. "Oh."

"I don't know what happened to it, I had it right after the crash and then when I woke up in that doctor's office, I didn't have it and they told me that I didn't have it with me when I got there, so-"

"Blaine," Kurt said, cutting off his rambling.

"What?" Blaine asked, still looking upset.

"Wait here," Kurt ordered, pressing a kiss to Blaine's cheek and running into their room.

"Kurt?" he heard Blaine call from the kitchen as he pulled out the carefully cleaned ring out of the drawer and ran back out into the kitchen, bouncing a little on his feet.

"Surprise!" he said, presenting the ring to Blaine, whose jaw dropped.

"You-but how?" he asked, staring at Kurt in awe.

"Long story," Kurt replied, slipping the ring back where it belonged on Blaine's finger. "Actually, not _that_ long of a story, but still."

"Tell me later, okay?" Blaine murmured, pulling Kurt close for a kiss.

Things had just started to get heated when there was a knock at the front door.

"Ah…do you think we can just ignore it and get back to what we're doing?" Blaine asked, panting a little.

"Kurt? Kurt, I know you're here, please let me in," Rachel yelled through the door, causing both boys to groan. Kurt separated himself from Blaine to go answer the door while Blaine turned off the stove.

"Hi!" Rachel said, cheerily, when Kurt opened the door. "I was wondering if you wanted to go get some lunch or something with me."

"Ah…sorry, Rach, I'm a little…busy right now," Kurt told her. A loud, clattering noise, like dishes hitting together came from the kitchen, causing Kurt to wince and Rachel to narrow her eyes.

"Kurt, is someone else there with you?" she asked, angrily.

"How about we have breakfast together on Saturday and catch up?" Kurt asked hurriedly. "That restaurant we found my first week here, okay?"

"Okay," Rachel replied, her eyes still narrowed. She might have wanted to say something else, but Kurt shut the door before she could, and returned to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Blaine from behind.

"She's gone," Kurt murmured in Blaine's ear. "Can we go back to where we were before the rude interruption?"

"Of course," Blaine said, turning in Kurt's arms and kissing him.

Saturday morning, they headed down to the small restaurant, holding hands and cracking stupid jokes.

Blaine wound up stopping right outside the restaurant to talk with a friend from Dalton, and after pressing a quick peck to Blaine's cheek, Kurt headed inside.

In the back corner, three tables had been pushed together to create one larger one, and sitting around it was the entirety of New Directions.

"Hey, everyone! What are you all doing here?" Kurt asked, grinning widely.

"Oh, cut it out. Rachel told us everything," Santana snapped. Kurt looked around the table and noticed that everyone there either looked worried or angry. He sat down at one of the empty chairs, confused.

"Cut what out? And what did Rachel tell you?" he asked.

"Dude, she said that when she went over the other day, you were with someone," Finn replied.

"Not cool, Kurt," Artie said, shaking his head.

"Yeah. Blaine's barely been dead four months and you're already moving on?" Mercedes added, looking disappointed.

"What are you-_oh,_" Kurt started to say, before realizing that everyone at the table had no idea. He smiled, unable to hold in a little giggle.

"And now you're laughing about it?!" Puck exclaimed. "Dude, we all thought that you and Blaine would be forever, and you're with some new guy barely three and a half months after he _died_, and we came here all worried about you, and you're _laughing _about it?"

Kurt started laughing harder.

"Just…just wait here, okay?" he said in between peals of laughter, standing up and walking outside to pull Blaine away from his friend.

"Why are you laughing?" Blaine asked.

"You'll see in a moment." Kurt giggled, pulling his husband to the back.

Everyone at the table's mouths dropped open when they saw Blaine.

"But…I thought…_how_?" Tina sputtered.

"Dude, are you a zombie? 'Cause if you are, that's awesome," Sam said.

"Wait…Does that mean Kurt's a zombie, too?" Brittany asked, looking worried.

"Of course he isn't a zombie, Trouty," Santana scoffed. "Britt, don't listen to him."

"Okay, when is someone going to get back to the question of '_how_'?" Mercedes asked.

"Wait…So _all _of you thought I was dead?" Blaine asked, sitting down.

"Well, to be fair, Blaine, the evidence _was_ stacked against you," Quinn shrugged.

"Wait…if you're alive…then whose body was that?" Puck suddenly asked, looking horrified.

"Why do you want to know?" Artie asked.

"I gave that thing mouth-to-mouth! Aw, gross!" Puck yelled, shooting up and running to the restroom.

"…Right. Now, where have you been, Blaine Anderson-Hummel? And you better tell us everything, or else," Rachel said, trying to look menacing.

"Right. Okay, well…" Blaine started, everyone leaning in.

"Oh, come on, I leave for a minute and you start telling the story?" Puck asked, exasperated. "This is not my day."

"He barely started, so stop whining, Puckerman," Santana told him.

"For the love of god, just let Blaine speak!" Tina said.

"Thank you, Tina," Blaine said. "As I was about to say, it all started one morning when my brother called…"


	6. Blaine's POV

**This is Blaine's POV of this fic so far and a little ahead...Enjoy :D**

Blaine was woken up that morning by his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his head.

Exasperated, he reached for it, trying not to disturb Kurt, who was fast asleep, using Blaine's chest as a pillow, expecting it to be some emergency at the school, like that one time some idiots had broken in and vandalized at least a dozen classrooms, including his own. Despite all the hard work Blaine ended up having to put in to put his classroom back to normal, it _had_ been pretty awesome. Especially after Kurt showed up to 'help out'.

He was sorely disappointed when Cooper (who was coming to visit for the holidays) started whining on the other end.

"_Blainey, my car broke down!"_

"Are you sure it's not just-" Blaine started to ask, contemplating just hanging up on him.

"_NO, I tried everything, it's just not STARTING! You HAVE to come and pick me up." _his brother demanded, clearly frustrated.

"Okay, okay, no need to shout. It's just…do you _really_ need me to-" Blaine was cut off again by Cooper.

"_Yes, I do need you to come pick me up, I'm in the middle of NOWHERE, and if I wind up having to hitchhike my way up there just so I can visit my little brother and his husband, I will get murdered, Blaine. MURDURED."_

Blaine rolled his eyes at Cooper's over-dramaticness before replying. "Fine! I'll be there in a couple hours. Just don't keep calling me every three minutes, okay?"

"_Fine, I'll see you soon." _Cooper huffed. Blaine then tapped the 'End Call' button and put his phone back down on the nightstand.

Blaine wrapped his arms even tighter around Kurt, pressing a kiss to his (hopefully) still-asleep husband's head. Maybe he could just go back to sleep and pretend that Cooper had never called.

"Who was that?" Kurt asked groggily, moving so that he was staring at Blaine with half-open eyes. Blaine winced.

"Cooper. He broke down a couple hours outside of town, and he apparently needs me to go pick him up. I'm sorry if I woke you up."

"No, it's okay." Kurt yawned, adorably, "And I'm not mad that you have to skip out on our weekly stay-in-bed-all-day-and-watch-bad-reality-TV Sunday. Now go get dressed, and I'll start the coffee maker and make you something to eat on the way."

"You are a saint." Blaine said, adoringly, as Kurt sat up and walked out of their room.

"I love you, too." Kurt replied, smiling over his shoulder at Blaine.

Blaine hurriedly threw on a (hopefully) clean shirt and jeans, hopping out into the tiny kitchen while pulling on his socks, Kurt laughing a little at his husband as he handed him a mug of coffee.

"There's a couple Poptarts in the toaster. I'll go get your shoes, phone, and keys. You just sit down and eat, okay?" Kurt told Blaine, the latter jumping up to sit on the counter, sipping at his mug.

"Okay, now I'm getting suspicious. Are you _trying_ to get rid of me?" Blaine teased.

"No, I just don't want to deal with your brother whining every six minutes about how you left him out in the wild for hours." Kurt yelled from their room.

"Whatever you say," Blaine said in a sing-song voice as Kurt walked back into the room, earning him a playful smack to the head.

Three minutes later, the two were sharing a sweet kiss at the door.

"Don't miss me too much, now, you hear?" Blaine said.

"Trust me, I'll be fine for a couple hours." Kurt replied, rolling his eyes.

"I love you."

"Love you too. Now go be a good brother."

Blaine smiled and started to jog down the stairs.

He had just been innocently driving along the highway to get Cooper, singing along loudly to the radio, smiling at the memories attached to each song that came up, when, suddenly, a deer appeared in front of his car.

Naturally, out of shock, Blaine jerked the steering wheel, sending him spinning towards the side of the highway.

Everything went black.

Blaine woke up slowly, his head aching and something itching on the right side of his face. Groaning, he raised his hand and rubbed at his forehead, wincing and quickly pulling it away when it stung. His gaze was drawn to his hand, and he inhaled sharply.

His palm was covered in blood.

Blaine dropped his hand and looked around the car, noticing the broken glass from the windshield and the pole his car had crashed into for the first time.

He grasped for the door handle, throwing it open and stumbling out, feeling dizzy as soon as he was standing.

Blaine started off into the wooded area, figuring that it was the quickest way to any sort of civilization. Then, he could call Kurt, or for some help, and _wow_, was the cut or whatever it was on his forehead really bleeding that bad? Oh, god, he really wished Kurt was there. Not hurt like he was, of course, Blaine would never wish that on Kurt, but just there. He'd be so much better in this kind of situation. Neither of them was very good with- wait, wait, you need to _focus, _Blaine. Focus on getting help, not on Kurt. Even though thinking about Kurt was an excellent distraction from the current situation.

Blaine continued to stagger through the woods, determined. He'd make it out of here soon enough, and then he'd be curled up with Kurt on the couch, his husband doting on him because he felt bad for making Blaine go out in the first place.

"_Hey, sir? Sir, can you hear me? Sir?"_

"_Any response?"_

"_No. But he's got a pulse, and he's breathing, so that's a good sign."_

"_Alright, help me lift him up and into my car. I'll drive him over to Dr. Roberts' office, he'll know what to do."_

"_Okay, but be careful with him. He's lost a lot of blood alread-"_

"_-happened to him?"_

"_No idea. Me and James found him on the outskirts of town, by the woods."_

"_And was he bleeding this bad when you found him?"_

"_Yeah. So, can you treat him?"_

"_I'll do my best, but there's no guarantee that he's going to live. Did he have an ID on him?"_

"_No ID, and thanks, Doc. See you-"_

A pitiful sounding moan echoes through the room.

Blaine couldn't tell where it came from, only that his head was pounding so bad, it felt like someone was hitting him with a hammer or something equally as painful.

But Kurt was there, Blaine's head in his lap, humming and smiling softly down at him as he played with Blaine's curls, so Blaine could live with the pain. Maybe.

"_Hey, Doc? I think he's waking up…"_

"_Alright, be down there in a second, Kate."_

The two strange voices feel like stabs to Blaine's head, and he lets out a little whimper, wincing.

Kurt had vanished, his kind, beautiful face replaced by a simple, tiled ceiling, when the pain had lessened enough so that Blaine could open his eyes again.

"Oh, look, his eyes are open!" a female voice suddenly said from somewhere around where Blaine's feet were, her voice loud and the cause of Blaine's second wince.

"Kate, if his eyes are open, he can hear you. And I bet he's got a migraine from the pain from the cut in his head, so why don't you go get him some medicine for that while I talk with him, okay?" another unfamiliar voice, this one male, reprimanded, his voice further away, but sounding like it was getting closer.

"Fine." the female voice huffed. Blaine blinked, confusedly, his hand going up to rub at his still aching head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." the male voice said from nearby, much closer that the girl had been. Blaine struggled for a bit, but eventually raised himself up enough to see a kind-faced, middle-age man standing by a curtain that was surrounding the bed where Blaine was lying.

"I know your first instinct is to rub where it hurts, but you had a pretty bad cut on your head that we had to patch up. Nothing serious, but wounds in that area tend to bleed a lot, and I wouldn't want you to start it up again by rubbing at the wound." the man told him, walking over so the he was standing next to Blaine.

"Oh." Blaine replied, dumbly. Then, "…Where's Kurt?"

"I'm sorry?" the man asked, looking confused.

"Kurt. Where's Kurt?" Blaine repeated.

"Who's Kurt?" the man asked.

"He's my husband. Where is he?" Blaine asked, starting to feel a little panicked without knowing the exact reason why.

"I'm sorry, he's not here. Do you-" the man started to say, but Blaine interrupted.

"I need him." Blaine announced, and then tried to get out of the bed. Somehow, though, he couldn't lift himself up enough to stand up, all of his limbs heavy and refusing to cooperate with his brain.

"You should really be lying down." the man said, looking concerned. "You lost a lot of blood; your body hasn't had the chance to catch up yet."

"Don't care." Blaine mumbled, finally standing up. " Need Kurt."

He started to stagger towards the partition in the curtain, but partway there, his vision suddenly went hazy, and he heard a rushing sound in his ears as he felt his body pitch forwards.

Everything around Blaine went dark again.

The next couple of weeks went by in a kind of blur for Blaine. He remembered puking and passing out a lot (he kept trying to get up and leave at first, then he caught some kind of flu) and he remembered that he kept asking for Kurt, but the rest was just a fog.

Until one day Blaine woke up and realized it was Thanksgiving morning.

Everyone who worked at the tiny clinic was extremely nice to Blaine that day.

Since he was well enough to be moving around without passing out (and the fact that they had decided to release him the next day), both and Kate invited them to their homes for Thanksgiving dinner.

Blaine declined both offers.

He just wanted to be back at home in New York with Kurt and his family (plus Cooper and, sometimes, Rachel and her dads) not with someone else's family.

Both the doctor and nurse just smiled at him sympathetically, seeming to understand Blaine's reasoning without him having to tell them.

They then offered to let Blaine use their office phone (which was actually a bigger deal than it seemed, since Blaine had asked before and both of them had given him a nearly hour-long lecture on how it was strictly business-only, and was not for personal use, and if he really needed to contact somebody, why did he lose his phone?) to call Kurt.

Blaine had picked up the phone and was holding it to his ear when he realized that there was a problem. And a pretty huge problem at that.

He couldn't remember Kurt's cell phone number, or the one for his work for that matter, for the life of him.

And since he had no idea where his own cell phone could be, trying that would be useless.

Blaine sighed and put the phone back down in its cradle.

He would just have to get back to New York as soon as he could.

Kate's younger sister offered to give him a ride to the next town over.

Blaine gladly accepted the offer, hoping that it'd be much easier to get back home from there.

She dropped him off in front of a convenience store with twenty dollars.

Blaine walked inside, hoping that either a) he'd be able to figure out which direction he should start walking in, or b) he'd be lucky enough to meet someone that was heading up there, and could give him a lift.

(The second option was a long shot, but Blaine couldn't help but hope.)

"Excuse me? Can you tell me how to get to New York City from here? Or where here even is?" Blaine asked the man hunched over on the other side of the counter, who snorted at Blaine's question.

"Kid, I have no idea how far the city is. Your best bet is to use one of those maps by the door." he chuckled, gesturing with his hand to where the maps were.

"Oh, okay. Thank you, anyway." Blaine said, already moving over towards the rack of maps. Finally, he found one that seemed like it would be useful, and brought it over to the cashier, who marked out where they were. Blaine's heart plummeted when he saw how far he was from home.

"Gotta say, I haven't seen a lot of travelers going to the city come through here." the cashier remarked as he rang up the price of the map.

"Really?" Blaine said, conversationally.

"Yeah. Last one was a coupla weeks ago. He was causing all sorts of fuss around this area because his car broke down, but a couple hours after he showed up, he called someone and got really upset and took off down the highway." the cashier told Blaine. "Anyway, nice doin' business with ya, kid. Happy Holidays."

"Happy Holidays." Blaine replied, really hoping who the cashier was referring to wasn't who he thought it was.

Because if it had actually been Cooper, something horrible had happened, and Blaine wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was.

The journey back home took two months and a week.

(Blaine had accidently started walking the wrong way three different times, only realizing it when someone stopped to give him a ride and told him.)

It was insanely miserable. Blaine slept every night on the cold, hard ground, wherever he had ended up; he practically lived off of whatever dollar-priced snacks he could find when he stocked up at random convenience stores (lucky for Blaine, he was so charming and apologetic about having to hitchhike, so most of the people who picked him up gave him a couple dollars when they dropped him off in sympathy).

Plus, it was cold. Freezing, actually. Every morning that Blaine woke up miraculously not-dead (he's seen those movies where someone dies after they fell asleep in the cold) or sick, he relaxed and smiled to himself for a little bit before setting off down the highway again.

He'd been keeping track of the dates, of course. So he knew it was Christmas when he woke up the morning of the twenty-fifth of December.

Blaine allowed himself a moment of wallowing in his own sadness and wishing he was at home with Kurt, drinking coffee and opening presents in between trading kisses and watching (also known as making fun of) the Disney parade, before he set off again.

If he walked a little faster and tried a little more vigorously to get picked up by the very few passing cars, well, could you blame him?

And on the night of the New Year, Blaine walked until he saw the fireworks erupting far ahead of him in the distance.

It was the first time in ten years of them being together that he and Kurt hadn't shared a midnight kiss.

Finally, _finally,_ Blaine did make it into New York City.

It took him a few hours to get over to where his and Kurt's tiny, cramped-but-perfect apartment was from where he entered town, but he made it.

And for some reason, at first he was nervous to go inside.

Blaine hovered outside the apartment door for at least twenty minutes, shifting his weight from foot to foot and lifting his hand as if to knock every few minutes, his mind racing with questions like, '_Will Kurt be mad at me? What if he never wants to speak to me again?'_.

When he eventually gathered up the courage to actually knock on the door, nobody answers. Blaine doesn't even hear movement on the other side.

Confused, Blaine reached up to grab for the spare key (which they had hidden on top of the small lamp above their door).

He entered the apartment to find it completely empty and spotlessly clean (Well, except for a mug sitting out on the kitchen counter).

"Kurt?" Blaine called out as he walked into their bedroom. Again, it was empty, and perfectly clean except for a couple papers left out on the desk. Blaine moved over to them, hoping that it was a note to him from Kurt explaining where he was and why their apartment was Emma Pillsbury-level clean.

The papers listed flight information for a plane headed to Columbus from New York, leaving that day, two hours ago.

He must have gone back to Lima to see his dad and Carole for a little while.

Blaine looked through them, hoping that there would be some information about when Kurt would be getting back, but there was nothing.

He sighed, and went back into the kitchen to get some food and to figure out whether or not going to see Rachel would be a bad idea.

Blaine spotted his phone sitting next to the mug on the counter when he turned away from the fridge.

He had no idea how Kurt wound up with it, or why there was some scattered cracks in the casing on the back, but Blaine scrambled to pick it up, dialing Kurt's number quickly, resolving to commit it to memory after he talks to Kurt.

"_This is Kurt Anderson-Hummel, please leave a message after the beep and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible!"_

"Ah, hey, Kurt. Um…Well, I guess you went back to Lima to see your family, and you forgot to turn your phone back on after you landed, but I just wanted to call and tell you that I'm sorry I was gone for so long and I'm back now. And…I really, really missed you. And you can make fun of me all you want later, but it's nice to hear your voice again. Even if it's just over your voicemail. Okay, I guess I'll…see you soon. I love you. See you soon. OH! This is Blaine, by the way. In case you don't recognize my voice. Bye again."

"_This is Kurt Anderson-Hummel, please leave a message after the beep and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible!"_

"Kurt! It's Blaine again. Um, just wanted to see if you turned your phone on yet. I guess not, but it doesn't hurt to check, right? Anyway, I hope you get back soon. I love you. I miss you. I'm sorry it took me so long to get home. See you soon."

"_This is Kurt Anderson-Hummel, please leave a message after the beep and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible!"_

"Hey, it's Blaine again. I really hope your phone really is off, and you're not just mad at me and avoiding my calls. And if you are mad, I'm really, really, _really_ sorry, and I love you and I've missed you so much it hurt, so can you please, please come home or call me back so we can at least talk about it? And if you're not mad, I miss you, and I love you, and I really want you to come back home, okay? See you soon."

Blaine only leaves the apartment once after he gets back, one little trip to the store to grab a few essentials, like bread, ice cream, and eggs.

He was literally gone for ten minutes.

But when he got back, wondering why the shop owner of the little store down the street had looked like he'd seen a ghost the whole time Blaine had been in there, he saw Kurt turning the corner, headed for the subway station at a slightly hurried pace.

Blaine _ran,_ quickly back upstairs first to put the bag of food on the counter right near the front door inside their apartment, then after Kurt through the busy station, calling out his name every few minutes. He saw Kurt boarding a train headed uptown, and managed to slip into another car of the same train _just_ as the doors slid shut.

He paced right in front of the door, staring intently out the doors for Kurt to appear every single time they stopped.

(Later, Blaine realized that he could have saved a _lot_ of time if he just moved up to the car Kurt was in when they stopped.)

As it is, the amount of people actually on the platform that Kurt got off at stopped Blaine from actually seeing that he got off until Kurt was already partway through the throng.

But Blaine followed him into a building three blocks away, and up to the floor the elevator had stopped on upstairs.

"Hello." Blaine said to the receptionist on that floor, panting a little. "I need to- I can I talk to Mr. Anderson-Hummel? If he's here?"

The receptionist stared at him, bored, then stood up and poked her head into the room behind her, said something, then sat back down, without saying a word to Blaine.

Blaine _really _hoped that she hadn't asked for security.

But when the door opened again and Kurt walked out, Blaine couldn't help but grin. It had been three months since he'd seen his husband's face, and Blaine just couldn't stop staring at him.

Kurt looked just as beautiful as ever, albeit a little tired and sad, but when he noticed Blaine standing at the reception desk, his eyes went wide.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked him a little breathlessly, like he couldn't believe Blaine was actually there.

"Kurt." Blaine breathed; feeling more relaxed than he had in months. Kurt still looked shocked, and his eyes were looking Blaine up and down, like he was looking for something.

"Kurt?" Blaine found himself asking, confused. And then Kurt was closing the short (but entirely too far) distance between them, his arms going around Blaine's neck, and letting out a small, choked sob when Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt.

"I'm home." Blaine whispered into Kurt's ear, and that's what started his husband crying into Blaine's shirt, sobs wracking his body, making him shake.

Blaine had no idea why Kurt was crying so hard, or why the receptionist, the woman who had followed Kurt out of the room, and the teenage girl were staring at the scene with fond, entirely too happy looks on their faces, but at that moment, with Kurt in his arms, Blaine was home.

So he didn't care less.

The next few days alone with Kurt were like heaven for Blaine.

Just the two of them, together, no interruptions (well, except for that one time Rachel came to the door. But Kurt got rid of her quickly enough.).

He didn't find out why Kurt had been sobbing when they were finally reunited, or even where he was when Blaine had caught up to him. And to be quite honest, he had forgotten all about those two questions. Until they went out to have breakfast with Rachel Saturday morning.

She had invited all of New Directions.

And _everyone there _had thought that Blaine had been dead for three whole months, because they had found a body in the woods near where his accident had happened that had looked suspiciously like Blaine.

A lot of things suddenly made sense when Blaine had found that out. Like why Kurt kept sobbing that first day they had been reunited, why the bodega owner had looked like he was seeing a ghost when Blaine walked in, and why the apartment had been so clean when he came home (Kurt was a stress/sad cleaner).

But there were still a couple of things bugging Blaine.

"Why didn't you tell me that everyone thought I was dead?" Blaine asked Kurt when they got home. Kurt bit his lip and went into the kitchen, pretending to look for something in the cabinet.

"Kurt." Blaine said, "Please talk to me. I don't want his to turn into a fight, like things always turn out to be if we don't talk about it."

Kurt muttered something then, still pretending to look for something in the cabinet.

"What?" Blaine asked. Kurt turned to face him, his eyes watery and bright.

"I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want to admit that I started to think you were dead, too." Kurt confessed, still quietly, but Blaine caught every word.

"You…you did?" Blaine asked, shocked.

"Of course I did!" Kurt exclaimed, looking equal parts angry and upset. "Three months with no word from you, a body was found in the woods near where your accident was, I found your wedding ring on the side of that very same highway _covered in blood_, _and _almost everyone else in the world telling me that you were dead? I tried to keep up hope, Blaine, I really did, but you can't tell me that you wouldn't have given up after that long, too."

Kurt wrapped his arms around himself, not able to meet Blaine's eyes. It hit Blaine then, how hurt about this whole thing Kurt was, how horrible he must have felt after Blaine came home because he had given up on ever seeing him again, but he shoved it all away like he usually did when Kurt was faced with something painful.

"I can't tell you that." Blaine told him, "I honestly can't tell you I wouldn't have given up after that long." Kurt let out a little whimper, and Blaine moved over to wrap his arms around Kurt's middle before continuing. "But I honestly don't know how you managed to believe in me as long as you did, Kurt. Or why you don't hate me for not trying harder to get in contact with you to let you know that I was okay that whole time I was gone."

Kurt looked up at him with a fierce, angry look in his eyes.

"Blaine Anderson-Hummel, I could _never_ be mad at you for something like that, so you stop even _thinking_ about it. And besides," Kurt told him, his expression softening before he continued, "you came back to me in the end. Just like Allie came back to Noah in the Notebook."

Blaine smiled at the reference and put his head down on Kurt's shoulder.

"How many times did you watch that movie the past few months?" Blaine asked.

"I lost track after the thirteenth time I watched it." Kurt hummed. "But I know I watched it way less times than I did after we broke up when I first moved here."

"I'm still sorry, you know that, right?" Blaine said, nuzzling his head into Kurt's neck.

"I know. And I believe you." Kurt murmured, kissing the side of Blaine's head. "I'm glad you came back to me."

"I'm glad, too." Blaine said, moving his head back up to kiss his husband on the lips.

Later, the two were curled up on the couch together, watching bad reality TV while they waited for dinner to finish cooking.

"Oh!" Blaine suddenly said, remembering something. "I forgot to ask you earlier. Where were you when I caught up to you that day?"

Kurt suddenly got that nervous, ashamed look on his face again.

"My therapist." he muttered, quietly, like he was hoping Blaine wouldn't hear him again.

"Your _what_?" Blaine asked, incredulously.

"My therapist." Kurt sighed, pushing himself away from the couch to look Blaine in the eyes. "A month ago, Isabelle said I wasn't 'coping very well with your death' and she told me that I should go see a therapist for a little bit until I could deal with what happened to you. Sarah, the therapist that I've been seeing, she's really been great. She didn't want to believe you were dead either. And she's really nice, and it was really great to talk to someone who didn't keep trying to tell me that you were dead every three seconds."

"Can I meet her?" Blaine asked. Kurt looked at him like that was the last thing he had expected to come out of Blaine's mouth, and he continued, "I mean, she's one of the reasons you got through this whole thing without snapping, right?" Kurt nodded, and Blaine continued, "Then I'd really like to meet her and thank her for what she's done for you."

"Really? Well, I bet she wants to meet you, too. I mean, I've only told her all about you." Kurt said, smiling widely as he settled back onto the couch and into Blaine's side. "I'll call her office tomorrow and tell her receptionist that I'll be there at my usual time Monday."

"Okay." Blaine hummed.

They watched TV for a little bit in silence before Kurt snorted.

"Want to come with me to tell Isabelle I'm ready to go back to work on Monday?" Kurt asked Blaine, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Only if you come with me to ask if I can get my job back at the school." Blaine replied, grinning widely.

"Deal." Kurt agreed. "This is going to be so much fun."

"It's going to be even better than Rachel thinking you had moved on from me with another guy and calling everyone here for an intervention for you when it was just me the whole time." Blaine snickered.

"In her defense, I was trying to get rid of her quickly, and she did _try_ to ask who was there with me." Kurt said. "But the fact that they all came to yell at me for being with someone but you is hysterical."

"When we were dating, sometimes I thought they cared more about our relationship than we did." Blaine told Kurt.

"They're such weirdoes." Kurt laughed.

"But they mean well." Blaine said. Kurt hummed in agreement, leaning over to press their lips together.

"I love you." he said, pressing their foreheads together. Blaine smiled.

"I love you too."


	7. Chapter 6

Kurt tapped on Isabelle's office door Monday morning, trying to balance the two cups of coffee he was holding without spilling. She looked up and grinned.

"Kurt! You're back! Wait, are you actually here to work? Because, as much as I think you deserve a couple more weeks off, I am absolutely _hopeless_ without you here," she said.

Kurt laughed, handing her one of the cups. "Not today, but I'm going to start back up again tomorrow. And I know, you're a mess without me organizing all your notes and steering you away from bad ideas, aren't you?"

"Don't tease me," Isabelle sighed. "I really do not know how I lasted so long without you. How are you, by the way? Everything okay?"

"I'm fine. Perfect, actually." Kurt hummed.

"Really? Well, I'm glad. I know things might be a little rough, but it's nice to know you're doing okay." Isabelle said, sympathetically. Kurt grinned.

"About that. There's someone I brought along with me today that I think you're going to want to talk to." he said, backing out and grabbing someone's arm, dragging them in.

Isabelle took one look at Blaine, who was blinking nervously, and choked on the sip of coffee she had just taken.

"But you…Oh my _god,_ I thought…you said…" she stammered. Kurt laughed.

"I'm not dead." Blaine said, smiling. "Nice to see you, too, Isabelle."

"I am _so glad _you're not dead." she squealed, hugging Blaine. "Poor Kurt was miserable without you, just like after you broke up a few years ago. So, where have you been, and why didn't you call? Oh, and when did you get back?"

"It's a long story." Blaine sighed.

Sarah whistled when Blaine was done telling his story.

"Sounds like you had a really rough time." she said, sympathetically. "But hey, I'm just glad you're not dead."

"So am I," Blaine laughed, squeezing Kurt's hand.

"So, how about you, Kurt? What do you think about what happened?" she asked.

"I think we've both had a couple of really rough months." Kurt said. "But things are only going to get better from here on out."

Sarah nodded. "Seems reasonable. And, I hate to do this, but I have another client in about ten minutes, so you guys have got to go. But if you ever need to just talk or anything, call me up. I'm pretty much always here."

"Will do. And thank you again." Kurt told her.

The two walked out, hand in hand.

As they passed Alyssa, Kurt could have sworn he heard her mutter, "I ship it."

Kurt woke up to find the other side of the bed empty, the covers neatly made.

He bolted up, breathing heavily.

_No, it can't be. He was here, he was right here next to me, he can't be gone again._

Kurt reached for his phone, dialing Blaine's number quickly, feeling like he had been punched in the chest when it automatically went to voicemail.

_Blaine hadn't really come back, had he? _He thought, swallowing back the lump in his throat. _It was just a dream. A really amazing dream._

Kurt felt a tear roll down his cheek, and his breath hitched. He threw his hands up (one still clutching his phone) to his eyes, trying to stop the tears.

_Stop it, Blaine would want you to be strong._ He yelled at himself, but that only made it worse.

He was full-on sobbing in a matter of minutes.

"Kurt? Kurt, what's wrong?" he heard an achingly familiar voice asked from the doorway. Kurt only sobbed harder. _Great, now you're hallucinating. What next?_

"Kurt, it's okay, I'm here." the voice said again, and soon enough, a pair of arms wrapped around him, tight enough that it actually hurt a little.

Blaine was really there, and Kurt clung to his husband, muttering random nonsense in between his sobs.

The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep again was saying, "Never leave me again."

"Never." Blaine had replied, kissing his forehead.


End file.
